Being Audrey Hepburn

Maybe I won’t have to tell him before I leave, I thought. I am so totally chicken. As soon as my last table settled up, Jess and I went to the back.

Grabbing the garment bag, I followed Jess to the ladies’ room and hung it on one of the bathroom stalls. Tugging down the zipper, I lifted the dress from the bag and squealed with excitement.

Jess was right. This dress was the best one yet, a jade-green homage to Valentino. She had taken all the scraps left over from working on Nan’s other gowns and pieced them into a diamond-shaped matrix of color and texture, recalling not only the hues but also the opulence of peacock feathers. The inset had been fitted into the center of the bodice like a bib, drawing the eye to the heart of the dress. A slip of sheer silk in matching jade had been cut on the bias and stitched over the shortened skirt to create movement. It was breathtaking, the perfect balance of delicacy and strength.

“It’s … stu

“Thank God you don’t have any boobs; this bodice is pretty snug as it is.” She gri

“I’ll ignore that comment,” I said. As she zipped up the dress, I felt an exciting surge run through me. She pulled a tiny clutch adorned with feathers out of the bottom of the garment bag.

“I did a purse for you with peacock feathers. I couldn’t resist,” she said, and I swear it felt like Christmas.

“Oh, Jess, it’s perfect.”

“It has a secret pocket in the lining for your ID,” she said. “That way, you can tell ZK you forgot it and preserve your secret identity, but if you need it coming home or whatever, you’ll have it.”

“You’re way ahead of me,” I said.

Opening the little peacock clutch, I gasped the second I realized that Jess had lined it with some of the green satin left over from the Valentino.

“Waste not, want not,” she said. “Or maybe it’s waste not, don’t have to fork over cash for lining fabric. Something like that.”

I set the clutch back down inside the garment bag; I didn’t want to accidentally splash water or get makeup on it or anything. It was almost too perfect to touch. Jess was watching me in the mirror.

“You do clean up nicely,” she said. “Oh shit, I was in such a hurry to get the dress done, I forgot all about jewelry.”

“No worries,” I said and reached over to my bag. “I actually brought this funky jade pendant on a tiny gold chain. I took one of the loose pieces from Nan’s treasure chest and placed it on my one gold chain.”

As I put the necklace on, Jess stood back to check me over.

“That really works,” she said. “It’s so delicate, I wouldn’t have thought to put it with that dress, but it absolutely makes the whole ensemble.”

“Thanks.”

“You really do have an eye for style,” she said.

I hugged her. I don’t know why tears started rolling down my cheeks. Or why I thought that was about the nicest thing anybody had ever said to me. I didn’t want to cry, it was just that it meant a lot coming from Jess. The whole thing started to feel so momentous, like I was on the precipice of something big, like I might actually have a shot at this vague idea of the life I wanted, even though I couldn’t begin to explain what it was. If it weren’t for Jess and Nan, I never would have gotten this close.

Jess pulled back, grabbed a tissue, and dabbed my eyes.

“Come on, you’d don’t want your face all red and puffy.”

“Thanks, Jess,” I said, trying to stop. “Thanks for everything.”

She gri

Spreading my makeup over the countertop, I gave myself a little birdbath in the sink to get the fry smell off. I needed to leave in like ten minutes, or I’d never make it to the city in time.

Another problem was my hair. It was too gross to wear down, and I swear if ZK got close enough, he’d smell the grilled cheese sandwiches. Wearing it up and spraying the hell out of it was the only solution, so Jess twisted my hair into an updo as I applied eye makeup.

False eyelashes, the application of which I spent a good chunk of the day trying to master, were the eighth wonder of the world. Thank God for YouTube is all I could say. Two minutes later, and I was instantly glamorous. Audrey would absolutely approve. Barely blushed cheeks, muted red lips, and I was ready to roll.

“Shit. Shoes?” I had totally forgotten. My Converse sneakers were not going to cut it.

“I hope these will do?” Jess said, dangling a pair of heels on the end of her finger as if she had read my mind.

“Louboutins!” I squealed. I couldn’t help it.

“Scored them on eBay. Had to repair the heel. They’ll only work for a night or two.”

“Almost as good as a glass slipper,” I said, bending over to put them on. Shoes had begun to be a bit of a challenge. Jess and I had gone to her favorite thrift store at St. Luke’s Church in Hell’s Kitchen and found a pair of very cool snakeskin stilettos with these funky crystals and some strappy sandals that she embellished with tiny strands of pearls and a pair of mismatched but coordinated brooches, but we couldn’t find anything formal.

The great thing about the Louboutins was that they were invisible. Stylish and current enough not to out me as a poseur, but so go-with-everything neutral that no one would remember them from one event to the next.

I stood as far back as I could in the Hole’s speckled and ancient ladies’ room mirror, until my back was almost right up against the peeling pink wall. The stu

“You ready?” Jess asked.

The two of us gathered up my stuff and shoved it back into her bag. I gave Jess a quick hug before we headed out the door.

“You’re the best,” I said, giving her a peck on the cheek.

“Aren’t I, though?” Jess laughed, almost blushing. “Call me later. I want every detail.”

I snuck out the back way and walked across the parking lot to my awaiting Purple Beast.

“Whoa. Lizzy, is that you?” Jake Berns in all his fla

His eyes twinkled in the moonlight.

“Crap, I meant to tell you.”

Realization darkened his expression.

“Ah,” he said, lowering his eyes, “that’s not for me.”

“I’m so sorry, I just have this other … it’s this thing … I promised to go and…” The words kept rushing out and none of them sounded good.

“Who? Who did you promise?”

“A … friend. No, not the kind you’re thinking. I want to see your band, I swear I—”

“You’re dressed like that for a friend?” he interrupted. “Didn’t you promise me?”

I had no idea what to say.

“Damn.” He dropped his arms at his side and hung his head.

“I’m sorry. I really am. I’ll leave as soon as I can. I won’t stay late. It’s just something I have to check out for myself, and then I’ll leave. I promise.” The last word echoed in silence.

He kicked around the gravel and dirt at his feet, but he didn’t say anything.

I ran for it, across the parking lot to my car, and didn’t look back because I didn’t want to see the expression on his face.

24

I parked the Beast at a riverside lot and walked the four blocks to the Soho House. The closer I walked, the denser the crowd became with paparazzi, celebrity stalkers, and other gawkers. I wondered how I would get in. Gathering my courage, I plunged.

The beefy doorman stood in my way and informed me that this was a “members only” joint. Which meant he knew that I wasn’t. How could he tell? Or did they say that to everyone? Was it because I was wandering around looking absolutely clueless? Shit, I hoped ZK put me on the guest list somewhere. Then I realized that he didn’t even know my last name.